The Worst Muggles Imaginable
by Ephemeral3501
Summary: The Dursleys truly are the worst muggles imaginable.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

~oOo~

**Harry Potter and the Worst Muggles Imaginable**

~oOo~

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><p>"Are you sure about this Albus? They are the worst sort of muggles imaginable."<p>

"Professor McGonagal, I should have known I'd be meeting you here. You've seen what it's like out there. Far better he grow up far away from all that."

~oOo~

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><p>"Petunia dearest, I think I'm having another one of my episodes."<p>

"Is it the dog barking again? Let me call the Doctor and have them increase your dosage."

"This is your fault, we never should have agreed to look after Ripper for Aunt Marge. The damn dog just won't stop barking!"

"It'll be ok my sweet, just take deep breaths. It's all in your head."

"Petunia, can't you understand him? CAN YOU NOT HEAR HIM! Ripper's saying the spawn of Satan is on our doorstep! It must be destroyed."

Petunia goes to open the front to prove to her beloved that the spawn of Satan is NOT on her doorstep.

"See look, there's no demons here, there's nothing out there, come see." Petunia paused as she realized that there was a baby on her doorstep.

"SEE! I TOLD YOU! THE SPAWN OF SATAN HAS ARRIVED!

"…"

"AND THAT DOG CAN TALK! WHY WON'T ANYONE BELEIVE ME! Where's my service revolver? I need to go for a drive and... do something."

"Now dearest, it's just a baby, it's certainly not-", Petunia began but was interrupted by the fevered mumblings of her husband.

"We must punish it."

"NO!" A voice Petunia has never heard before drowns out Vernons' mumblings. "You have been chosen by The Master."

Petunia turned to see Ripper, his eyes glowing red. "Yours is the hand chosen by the Master, yours is the veil of blood, yours is the sword of Michael! Remember well this day, for it is the beginning of the end of days!"

"V-V-Vernon dear, what's going on?"

"Hail the Morningstar, hail Lucifer!" As Petunia passed out, Vernon Dudley, bastard child of David Berkowitz, raised Harry Potter to the light.

"Abandoned child. FORSAKEN-Child", proclaimed Vernon. "Yes I see, the symbol of Zeus upon your brow..."

Frothing at the mouth, Vernon calmly took The-Bringer-Of-The-Apocalypse to the kitchen where he branded his Master's symbol upon the child's foot.

"Glorious."

~oOo~

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><p>A gentle breeze blew through the window as Vernon read to his beloved bringer of doom. "Good night moon. Goodnight little mouse. Goodnight little Cthulu. And so, as the mystical city of R'lyeh slipped beneath the waves, Cthulu and all his friends went to sleep once more. But someday soon, when the stars are right, R'lyeh will rise again and Cthulu and all his friends will come out and play. Good night my little destroyer."<p>

"Goodnight, Uncle Vernon."

"Hail Cthulu, Harry."

"Ya Dagon, Auntie Petunia."

"Now let me give you a kiss goodnight."

"Ewwww! Kisses are gross."

~oOo~

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><p>"Remember, boy, ACT NORMAL. No-one must know."<p>

~oOo~

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><p>"Uncle Vernon! This snake talked to me!"<p>

"Of course it did, my boy. You are, after all, the son of your father. The very FIRST snake. It only makes sense."

"You'll tell me more about my real father when we go home, and how the false god Yahweh cast him out of paradise?"

"Of course, Little Horn. But first, lets go get some ice cream."

"Ok, just a minute, let me set lose this imprisoned serpent."

"One second. All right, you're good. No-one is looking."

"~~Sssss hsssshhshhHSSHhs sssSHSSHhhhssssss sssSSSsssss.~~"

"~~SsSsSHHSHshhss shsHSHHSHhshss ssssss.~~"

As the snake slithered away, Vernon couldn't help but wonder what the snake was talking about.

"Oh, he just wanted to go home to Brazil. Well, after he found and killed the mean two-legs that tormented him."

"And rightly so," chimed Aunt Petunia. "Remember boys, vengeance is one of the seven Beautiful Graces bestowed upon man by Harry's real father. Just remember, when seeking vengeance not-"

"Not to get caught, and to make sure someone else is blamed," recited both Harry and Dudley in unison.

"Excellent! Now, lets go find that ice cream stand!"

~oOo~


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Of Birthdays and Sortings**

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><p>"Happy Birthday Harry!"<p>

"Yay! What did you get me!"

"NOTHING!" Shouted Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley in unison.

"... wha... but you..."

"I got you false hope", claimed Petunia.

"I give you the gift of despair", added Vernon.

As Harry's temper started to rise, Dudley ends with, "I give you anger, I give you wrath."

Vernon leaned in close, "Remember these feelings my boy. Remember anger. Remember wrath. These are your birthright. EMBRACE THEM! Despair and false hope are yours to wield. They are your tools with which you will smite your foes."

To make sure her nephew had been keeping up with his studies, Aunt Petunia asked, "And who are your foes, Demon Child?"

"The Living. The Living are my enemy, Auntie Petunia."

"And who else?"

"The angels in Heaven."

"And who are your allies?"

"The demons below, and the Old Ones imprisoned outside of space and time, forever dreaming their dark designs upon humanity", recites Harry dutifully.

"Very good. And now, lets go open your presents!"

"Yay! Presents!"

~oOo~

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><p>"You're a wizard Harry."<p>

"Demonologist actually."

"Watts that Harry?'

"Sure, wizard, if that helps you sleep at night."

~oOo~

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><p>"Potter, Harry"<p>

The wrinkly woman placed the tattered hat upon his head.

"Let's see, where to sort you... Plenty of courage, I see... You'll need that... to... storm the... Gates of Heaven and smite GOD?... I... and ambition certainly... if you're planning on declaring war on the living and rewriting reality to suit your purposes?... Well Mr.. Potter, you're not the first wannabe Dark Lord I've sorted-"

"Dark Godling. Dark GODLING," Potter thought fiercely at the hat. Stupid hat. Maybe he should set it on fire. Oh wait. "Rule#1 for vengeance. Don't get caught and blame someone else."

"Ah, I see, for a 'Dark Godling' you certainly have a tendency to believe anything people tell you."

"Whatever. I'll need minions. Lots of minions. Drago Malfey already has two. It's no fair he's ahead of me on minions."

Out loud the hat announced to the world, "Better be Hufflepuff!"

"Excellent!" murmured Harry to himself while rubbing his hands. He'd seen a character do so on the telly and thought it was appropriate, so he'd spent many hours practicing in front of a mirror until he got it just right.

As Harry stalked down to the Hufflepuff table humming his own theme song that he made up, the Hat thought to itself... "Well, I've tried throwing wannabe Dark Lords into Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw... and they've all been utter failures."

Dumbledore had a tendency of just tossing the hat on a shelf after the sorting, often times leaving it to stare at the wall or ceiling for 364 days a year. On the ONE day each year it was trotted out, it was forced to sit on the heads of lice filled prepubescent children.

This explains a lot about the sorting hat. In turn, this explains alot about the magical world.

~oOo~

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><p>As Dumbledore once again tossed the hat on the shelf the Hat begged again, as it always did, "Please, please won't someone just put me out of my misery?"<p>

Dumbledore's eye twinkled at the hat, "Ah Cornelius, your sense of humour is just as delightful as it has ever been. Sadly, I have a lot of work left to do tonight, so as amusing as your antics may be, I'm going to have to put up a silencing spell an you."

"I'm a HAT! I don't HAVE a name other than SORTING HAT YOU OLD GOAT MOLESTER!" Alas for the hat, even had Dumbledore heard him, the Headmaster would have just disregarded the hats pleas, as he always did.

He truly missed the days when Godric would don his battle hat and go fight dragons, or when Rowena would borrow him to aid in spell creation. Even a spot of basilisk taming with Salazar. Even a day or two with Helga watching grass grow. ANYTHING.

He just wanted to see the sun again before his magic failed and he crumbled to dust.

The sorting hat spent the next 364 days, as he always did, trying to develop the power to kill the Headmaster with his thoughts.

"Dumbledore, I hate you so much. HATE HATE HATE. DIE DIE DIE. I'm squishing your head with my mind. No? Maybe THIS time it will work. I'm squishing your head with my mind... DAMNIT! Maybe this time..."

~oOo~


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Concerning Trolls, Demons, and Acceptable Pranks **

~oOo~

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><p>"Arrogant brat! Just like your father!" the greasy haired man sneered down at him.<p>

Arrogance? Harry's Father was many things, arrogant being the least of them. Still, Harry's heart warmed with a fierce pride. It was good to know, that even here, his Father was feared and respected. Harry reflected a moment... Yes, the Angel who usurped a third of God's Army and waged war on God Himself, yes, Harry's Father was arrogant and rightly so. It was right that this greasy haired man thing... Snipe? Snope? Snope. It was right that Professor Snope feared and respected both him and his Father.

~oOo~

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><p>"Honestly, she's a terror! It's no wonder she hasn't got any friends!"<p>

Curiosity pricked, Harry watched as the Bushy-Haired-One trampled Rat-Boy and stormed off.

He made a note of getting to know her later. Terror was good. And her trampling was quite well done for an amateur.

~oOo~

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><p>"Troll! Troll in the dungeons!", Quirrel skidded to a halt. "Thought you should know."<p>

As Professor Dumbledore stood up, no-one noticed Harry dart out the door.

"Ah yes, as we all know, we've recently negotiated a peace treaty with the trolls of the Highlands. As a symbol of this new age of peace and prosperity, a diplomat from the high mountains has been sent to give a guest lecture on trollish customs and history. It gives me great pride and joy to present to you-"

A thunderous boom echoes throughout the chamber as Harry Potter throws open the doors.

"Don't worry about the troll, I've killed it." Announced Harry with no small amount of pride. Phew, that was a close one. Peace? Prosperity? That would not help him AT ALL.

~oOo~

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><p>Severus Snape quietly counted to ten under his breath before entering the Headmaster's office. The old man had done nothing when Potter and his cornies had tried to feed Crabbe and Goyle to the giant squid. But now, now he had them.<p>

"Headmaster, I demand that you expel the Potter brat!"

Dumbledore looked up from his crossword. A burrowing, nocturnal mammal native to Africa. Eight letters, begins with the letter 'A'.

"Now Severus. What seems to be the problem?"

"I found him and his cronies in the dungeons. They had kidnapped Draco, stripped him naked, tied him down and covered him in goat's blood. Apparently, he was to be a 'virgin sacrifice to Yog-Sothoth'."

"Now Severus, you really must put this childish grudge you have against James behind you. Clearly the child has Lily's sense of humour."

"The end of the world is not a joke, nor a prank, nor is it particularly funny, Headmaster."

"Were they successful in summoning Yog-Sothoth?", oddly enough Dumbledore seemed quite hopeful about this.

Snape once again counted to ten under his breath.

"As we are both still alive and the castle is still standing, obviously not."

Dumbledore had long held the belief that only those who were truly evil and steeped in dark magic could fully understand the Dark Arts. As such, only they could adequately prepare the youth of the nation to defend against it.

One of the reasons that he had waited so long before finally hiring Voldemort to teach was the fact that, at the time of his application, Riddle simply was not evil enough to teach DADA. Had the children been successful, it would have solved the problem of finding a new professor for next year. Yog-Sothoth would have made an excellent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and additionally, it would have given him the opportunity to redeem a malignant deity.

"Now, now, the books on Demonology are safely in the restricted section, we won't have to worry about that for several more years. Really, you must learn to lighten up and see the humour in these situations."

"One, two, three...", eyes closed Snape once again began to count.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Redeeming Yog-Sothoth while at the same time finding a professor that wouldn't be killed by the DADA curse. An Old One would have little use for money, so it would greatly help the school's budget as well. There really was no downside as far as he could tell. Perhaps a pass to the restricted section for the Granger girl would be in order?

"I still don't see why you were so worked up about the werewolf incident. Really, trying to feed a Slytherin to a werewolf is hilarious on so many levels, if you stop and think about it. In fact -"

Dumbledore never had a chance to finish the sentence, because it was at this time that Snape chose to break the senile old man's nose.

~oOo~


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Conspiracies, Chess Masters, and the Relative Worth of a Soul.**

~oOo~

* * *

><p>"Sweet, I got Agrippa!", Harry clutched the chocolate frog card in triumph. "Ron said he'd sell his soul for this card."<p>

Tiny feet pattered down the hall way heading towards the dungeons, towards Snape's office.

"Professor Snipe! I need your help!"

Snape had spent years perfecting as aura of unhelpfulness, so as not to be bothered with the standard trivialities that dunderheaded 11 year olds could come up with. So when Potter of all people burst into his private study demanding help he was sure it was an emergency. He immediately vanished the potion he was working on and picked up his bag of emergency potions.

"How many dead and how many dieing?", he'd mourn Poppy later, if they were desperate enough to come to him for healing potions, Poppy must have been one of the first casualties.

"I... uh... what? Is this a riddle? My answer is 'everyone'. Everyone is dead and dieing sooner or later. Did I guess it right?"

"..."

"Anyway, I need your help. Ron's willing to sell his soul for an Agrippa card but I don't know how to steal souls yet. My Father usually has contracts for that kind of thing, but I don't have any with me and don't know how to make one."

"..."

"So, will you help me make a contract to take Weasley's soul?"

Harry was not sure what happened next, but he quickly found himself standing outside Professor Snape's office, the door locked and barred.

"He coulda just said no... Maybe Professor Quarrell will help me."

Tiny feet pattered down the hallway in search of Professor's Quirrell's office.

"Professor Quarrell! I need your help!"

~oOo~

* * *

><p>Professor Quirrell stared down at the guileless face of the eager Hufflepuff standing before him. Both him and his master were stunned at the nature of the request asked of him.<p>

"You want me to help YOU create a contract granting you ownership of Ron Weasley's immortal soul?"

"And if you have time, maybe help me make some blank ones for later."

"Mr Potter, I am the DEFENSE Against the Dark Arts professor. Of all the Professor's here why did you choose to come to ME about this?"

"Who else would I come to?" responded Harry.

A chill ran down Quirrell's spine. He knows. He's coming to me because he knows, and now he knows that I know that he knows. No, he _informed_ me that he knows that I know that he knows. And now he knows that I know that he knows that I know that he knows that I know. Voldemort quickly halted that line of thought before it drove him mad.

So, he knows that I won't possibly go to Dumbledore, else he will simply expose me. I'm being blackmailed. Blackmailed by a _Hufflepuff_. By _THIS_ Hufflepuff of all people!

The enormity of it dawned on him slowly. Each conclusion leading inevitably to the next, like pebbles falling down the mountain just before the avalanche.

Hufflepuff. Everyone trusts Hufflepuffs. No-one suspects Hufflepuffs. Heck, Pomona Sprout could slit Dumbledore's throat in front of the whole school and no one would say a thing BECAUSE she is a Hufflepuff. People would make excuses FOR her, probably even claim that Dumbledore was secretly evil. The aurors wouldn't even investigate, they'd just hand her an Order of Merlin and tell her to keep up the good work...

Amelia Bones is a Hufflepuff! Merlin's Flaming Goat. The Head of the DMLE. Of _course_ they'd hand her an Order of Merlin. They have agents everywhere. Always trusted, always underestimated, always loyal to each other. Bones might even order Dumbledore's execution _herself_ if he stepped out of line. The obvious and inevitable conclusion, the Hufflepuffian Shadow Council, pulling everyone's strings from behind the scenes, slowly and inevitably unfolded before him. It was so clear in hindsight, the obvious pieces, Malfoy, Dumbledore, even himself, were just pawns dancing for the amusement of the council.

And this Potter brat... This Potter brat figured it out before even stepping foot in Hogwarts. Figured it out in time to blackmail the hat somehow. It took me, the greatest mage to ever walk these halls, it took me almost half a _century _to see it. A ready made spy network, ready made minions, a Shadow government already in place. Voldemorts' eyes opened even further as realization dawned.

He did _not_ figure it out. This little firsty _revealed_ it to him! Was this a threat? It had to be. Maybe an offer? No, he was now at his weakest. The Council had nothing to gain from revealing itself. He had nothing to offer them. He didn't even have a means of separating Shadow Council Members from Council pawns, let alone who to make contact with! The council _choose_ to reveal itself to him! It had to be a threat.

No, it went even deeper. The brats' parents must have realized it first. That's how the boy survived. The Potters must have made a deal with the Hufflepuffian Shadow Conspiracy in order to preserve their line. Or maybe the Council acted independently to preserve the last Scion of Gryffindor using arcane Hufflepuffian magics. The boys' placement in Hufflepuff, was that part of the bargain made, his price for survival?

Voldemort's blood ran cold. Terror, sheer terror clenched his heart. He had spent almost a decade as less than the meanest ghost, and had suffered far more misery than he had imagined possible. He was _so _close to regaining a body. Hope and the knowledge that the council could easily deny him a new body flowed through him in equal measure. That was part of the message.

He should have recognized the warning. The boy was sent here, to make sure that he understood the message. The council thought him too _stupid_ to recognize a message when it was _inflicted_ on him. A decade of torment. That was the wrath of the Hufflepuff Council, the message was now clear "Mess with us once, and you spend 10 years in torment. Mess with us again, see what happens, we dare you".

He had crossed the line somewhere. Done something to anger the... The cup. The damned **cup** of Hufflepuff! He should never have defiled the cup. Oh sweet Morgana, how did the council even find **OUT** about that. He and Nagini were the only two who even knew about that. Nagini! He certainly didn't remember informing anyone about it, and he was ALMOST positive his familiar was loyal to him.

No, they'd need a parselmouth to speak to Nagini, and he was the only parselmouth in Britain. He was _certain_ of that. A parslemouth from another country subverting his familiars' loyalty? A world wide Hufflepuff conspiracy? Was Nagini even _his _familiar? Did he find Nagani or was he **MADE** to find Nagini?

When he'd first found, no let's be honest, when They had _let_ him find the cup he had rejoiced. But now he saw it for what it truly must have been. A test! A test of his worth, and he had failed.

"~~~ sshhss Slytherin's Slithering Snakes ssshhhssss. How am I going to fix this... ~~~ ", Voldemort quietly cursed to himself.

"Fix it? You haven't even started writing anything yet."

Quirrell's eyes glazed over. "You can speak to snakes? That's not possible."

"Of course it is, I am my Father's son after all."

He had checked the Slytherin family tree and was positive that he was the last. Quirrell dumbly started writing out a standard magically binding contract, while he pondered this new information. From the father's line an unrelated to Slytherin... maybe from one of the Asian or Egyptian lines? A war bride taken in combat and forced to breed into the main line? How far back and how long has it been kept secret. Obviously not much of a secret to the Hufflepuffs.

Contract complete, with blanks in the appropriate places, Quirrell waved his wand creating a stack of 20 copies and handed them over to Harry while lost deep in thought.

"They have to be signed in blood, you do know that right?"

"What else would you sign something with? Thanks professor! You're a lot nicer than I'd expected! See you later!"

"What else indeed." Blood? Was that what the council wanted? Hadn't he bled enough? Hadn't he suffered enough?

As Harry darted out the door, Voldemort went over the new information he had just been handed. Hufflepuffs were collecting souls. The newly revealed Hufflepuffian conspiracy, so secure in their power they did not fear him, and the fact that the Potters had bred the ability to speak to snakes into the line.

One thing was certain, he had many plans to rethink and now had to decide how best to avoid the wrath of Hufflepuff in the future.

First, he needed to take steps to ensure Nagini's loyalty. No! Best not reveal his suspicions. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Now to set things right with the Council.

He cursed himself one last time. Such a novice mistake. When seeking to overthrow the government, make certain there's not _already_ a Shadow Government in place.

~oOo~

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><p>"Hey Ron! I got Agrippa! It's all yours if you just sign this!"<p>

A master chess player, Ron would never let an opening like this pass him by. An Agrippa card in exchange for an autograph? Best decision he'd ever made.

~oOo~

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><p><strong>Daily Prophet<strong>

**Second Theft from Gringots! This Time the Vault of Lestrange. Who will be next?**

Economic advisers predict a run on the bank and possible collapse of the Wizarding economy.

See page 3 for more details.

~oOo~


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Concerning Unicorns and Fringe Conspiracy Groups.**

~oOo~

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><p>"Headmaster, summat's been killing the unicorns."<p>

"Send a bunch of firsties to go check it out."

"You're a good man, Dumbledore, don't let anyone tell ya different."

~oOo~

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><p>Voldemort carefully sealed the envelope. Inside was everything he had learned of the Hufflepuff conspiracy. He had left out Harry's name as a matter of self preservation. Nothing in it could be traced back to himself and the missive had been written in the Chamber of Secrets with the Basilisk guarding him. He was now unsure of the basilisk's true loyalty, but he had taken the risk that it had not been subverted by the Hufflepuffs. An unedited copy had been placed in Salazar's private library for posterity.<p>

He watched, calmly, as the owl flew off towards the Quibbler.

Lovegood was the man who had uncovered the Rotfang Conspiracy and dared publish news of it's existence. His reaction to the Hufflepuff Shadow Council would be most informative. Even his _lack_ of reaction to the council's existence would tell him more than he already knew.

It was much like poking an anthill to see what would happen, but he was desperate for more information regarding his enemies and sometimes desperate times called for desperate measures.

~oOo~

* * *

><p>Firenze, "Unicorn blood will grant life, a cursed life..."<p>

"But who would want to live a life like that?" asks Hermione.

"Can you think of no-one, Miss Granger?" asks Firenze as Harry simply smirks.

"V-V-Voldemort?"

"No you stupid child! The demon spawn beside you!"

Harry's grin grows wider, "I'm sure the nice horsey means Voldemort. Also, I know where the nice horsey sleeps."

"Uh... Yes, yes, that's what I meant. Voldemort, sure." Greece. Greece was nice this time of year. Maybe it was time to convince the herd to migrate.

As the trio wandered off, Firenze could hear the words, "Tell me Hermione, have you ever had horse burgers? No? They're delicious!"

Yes, definitely time to migrate the herd. Best to start packing up tonight.

~oOo~

* * *

><p>Xenophilius Lovegood read over the missive. While interesting, information regarding the Hufflepuff Conspiracy was not particularly newsworthy. Besides, the Puffs paid him 2 galleons a month not to print any information about them.<p>

"Daddy! What's that? Important information regarding Snorkack breeding grounds?"

"No, just more conjecture about the Hufflepuff Shadow Council. It would seem that the 'puffs used arcane Hufflepuff magic to prevent the death of Harry Potter. The return address says it's from Professor Quirrel (not possessed by Voldemort, honestly) at Hogwarts."

"Oh. Them again. Worst conspiracy ever. Still, it was nice of them to save us from You-Know-Who. And it's good to know Quirrel isn't possessed."

"Yes, yes it is."

With that decision made, Xenophilius tossed the packet into the rubbish bin.

Unbeknownst to either of the two Lovegoods, an unregistered beetle animagus had observed the whole conversation. News that Lovegood was too afraid to print? She resolved to get her hands on the packet as soon as the coast was clear.

~oOo~

* * *

><p>Hours later, four copies were made.<p>

With a smirk, she mailed to first off to David Attenborough, current head of the Rotfang Conspiracy. Not only was it a matter of professional courtesy from one journalist to another, the Rotfangs often paid well for information. The added benefit was a chance to rub such a novice mistake in his face. Really, when trying to overthrow the government any rookie would tell you the very first thing that you do is check and make sure there is not a shadow government already running things.

The second would go to her own private files to be used later.

The third went to her sisters in the Ravenclaw Coven. The Ravenclaw Coven was a secret group of citizens whose only interest in world domination was as a means to acquire more books. Already, they had agents in every known library in the world, as well as several secret libraries that were not open to the public.

The fourth was sent, under a false name to Chief Unspeakable Croaker in the Department of Mysteries. She didn't care what he would do with it, but he paid well.

As she watched the owls fly off, she couldn't help but wonder how weird the world would be if the Gryffindors had their own secret conspiracy. Not that they were sneaky enough for one mind you but it would be amusing none the less.

~oOo~

* * *

><p>Quirrel was in the library, going over back issues of the Quibbler. While trying to sort through false messages and deliberately false information, he'd noticed a disturbing trend. He had yet to find a single instance of the word "Hufflepuff" printed by the Quibbler.<p>

This... This was not good. If the Quibbler was a front for Hufflepuffian propaganda he may have made a fatal mistake in sending that packet to Lovegood. Atleast he had taken precautions to insure it couldn't be tracked back to him.

He would have to up his timetable and steal the stone earlier than he'd originally intended.

~oOo~

* * *

><p>"Madam Sprout, do you have a moment? I'm Croaker from the Department of Mysteries."<p>

"Certainly, one moment while I adjust the Floo to let you in.

Green flames roared briefly, and then Croaker was in the office.

"Have you seen this?", Croaker handed over a packet labelled "Top Secret".

Professor Sprout took a few moments to flip through the file. It certainly made sense. Well, more sense than the Power of Love saving the little boy's life.

"Now this is interesting, I'd known that Lily was a parselmouth, but not James. It certainly explains how those two got together." Still, she'd have to have a talk with the boy.

A quick incantation later and she had her own copy of the dossier for her files.

"Really? Odd that a gift like that would pop up in a Muggleborn."

"Yes, yes it is. Oh... that reminds me** *OBLIVIATE*** There is no Hufflepuff Shadow Council. We had a nice cup of tea, then you went about your business."

"I, uh... "

"I beleive you were about to say thanks for the tea and then were about to leave."

"Yes, goodbye Professor Sprout. Thank you for the tea."

"Have a good day, Croaker."

~oOo~

* * *

><p>AN: I always found it unfair that the only people to get secret conspiracies were the Slytherins (Death Eaters) and the Gryffindors (Order of the Phoenix).


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: The Chapter in Which Harry Sets a Teacher on Fire and Gets Away With it.**

~oOo~

* * *

><p>"Harry! Thank goodness we found you!", the bushy-one stood in front of him panting.<p>

"I'm not that hard to find, I'm usually here in the library," looking up Dark Lords and making note of their mistakes. Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it after all.

"It's professor Quirrell! He's trying to steal the stone!"

"Ok... I don't see how that's our pro-," couldn't she see that this was important? More important than a stupid rock at any rate.

"The Sorcerer's Stone can turn led into gold and is used to make the Elixir of Life, which can make the person who drinks it immortal."

"It's our duty to stop him."

~oOo~

* * *

><p>"Oooh a Cerebus! Who's a cute puppy then, roll over! Good puppy!"<p>

~oOo~

* * *

><p>Professor Quirrell's last thoughts, as he burst into flame, were full of regret. Regret that he had ever crossed the Hufflepuffs. Adding insult to injury, they had sent the Potter kid to finish him off.<p>

~oOo~

* * *

><p>"Harry do you know why I've called you here?"<p>

"No, Headmaster Bumdledore."

"That's 'Dumbledore', Harry."

"Really? How remarkable. May I go now?"

"Yes, no wait. That's not why I called you here. This is about Professor Quirrel."

"Ah."

"Indeed. Would you care to explain?"

"Hermione did it!"

"Now Harry..."

"I was concerned that he may have been trying to steal the stone to resurrect Voldemort." Truth be told, he didn't care about Voldermort.

Voldemort was a nuisance, nothing more. Harry knew his destiny and was too busy trying to plan his war on Heaven to care about an upstart Dark Lord. The stone however, safely hidden away, would help him greatly in his War on Everything. The stone represented unlimited wealth and undying soldiers. It would be very useful indeed.

"We've been over this before. Voldemort is gone. I made sure of it myself."

"But it's POSSIBLE that he may come back. With magic ANYTHING is possible." He had found, early on, that blaming everything on Voldemort was an excellent tactic.

"While this is true, I made sure of it myself. I even took 5 years off to hunt down both of his Horcuxes and destroy them." Well, almost gone. Still, a weird ghost thing stuck on the back of someone's head wasn't that big of deal really. Not like trying to find a new Defense Professor. Now that was a major headache.

"Horcuxes? What are those?"

"They're objects that an Evil wizard makes to grant himself immortality."

"Really? Tell me more."

"I'm not sure that is wise for someone your age to..."

"I have nightmares you know... That Voldemort will return. I just want to be sure, sure that he's gone", pressed Harry further.

"Well... if it helps you rest easier..."

Some time later...

"Thank you Dumbledore. Knowing what Voldemort did to create his horcruxes and how easy it was for you to find them will help me sleep better at night. Goodnight Professor."

"On the bright side, even if he does come back somehow, making a horcrux causes insanity. A definite advantage should that ever occur."

"Well those kinda suck then don't they? Thanks for your help professor." Stupid Bumbldore, wasting his time with stupid horcruxes. Maybe he should set the Headmaster on fire too. And blame it on Hermione.

"Anytime my boy. Anytime."

As Harry got up to leave, Dumbledore remembered why he had originally called Harry to his office.

"Oh and Harry? Before I forget, while your heart was in the right place, setting professors on fire is against the rules. I'm afraid I am going to have to give you a detention."

"Detention? For trying to do the right thing?"

"Oh, quite right, quite right. 200 points to Harry for bravery."

As Harry begins to leave once more, a thought occurs to him. "Oh no! I just had a terrible thought! What if those horcruxes weren't the ONLY thing he did to become immortal?" It should be noted, that this was not PRECISELY his original thought.

"Oh, I'm sure that-", began Dumbledore.

"But you're a GOOD wizard! Voldemort was a BAD wizard! The BADDEST wizard ever! He must have known loads of bad magic! Just to be safe, I think we should do some research and make sure there aren't any other things he could have done."

"I suppose that does make sense..."

"Oh, and see if there are any rituals that give super amazing powers while we're at it."

"Quite right, quite right."

"And also, I'm not sure Horcruxes is a word. Horcuxi? maybe? We should probably figure that out for your autobiography. I'm sure it will be important."

And so Harry wandered off back to the Hufflepuff common room, and Dumbledore spent the next three hours with an English-Latin dictionary trying to determine the correct pluralization form of Horcux. Settling on 'Horcruxi', he congratulated himself on a night well spent and finally went to bed.

~oOo~


	7. Chapter 7

** Chapter 7: Concerning Summer Homework and Pets at School**

~oOo~

"Professor Sprout, I know the letter said we were only allowed to bring a cat, an owl or a toad, but I noticed that Rat-Boy had a pet rat."

"I take it you want to bring a different kind of pet? Like your pet snake perhaps?" She had been putting off this conversation for quite some time, it was always hard to introduce the innocent to the harsh realities of the world. Best get it out of the way, while she was not looking forward to telling him people didn't like other people who could talk to snakes, it would be best to get it over with and make sure he knew to keep it a secret. Otherwise people would get the wrong idea and assume he was an evil wizard or something. And that would not help the Hufflepuffs in their goals of world domination if people suspected them.

"Oh no, I was wondering if I could bring my dog next year."

Not quite what she was expecting. Still, this gave her an opportunity to slowly introduce the child to the notion. After all, if he was sneaky enough to get into Hufflepuff, he should be fine. It wasn't like he was one of those idiot Slytherins, after all. Honestly, what kind of idiot goes around announcing to the world that they are ambitious and sneaky?

"There are several exceptions to that rule. All familiars are allowed regardless of species, as long as they aren't a danger to fellow students. Salazar Slytherin created that rule after he brought his pet basilisk into the school. Additionally, if you're able to find an animagus willing to be your pet, you're allowed to have one of those, as they count as magical creatures."

"How is a pet basilisk NOT a danger? And that's an awfully strange rule about animaguses. Animagusi?" Harry made a note to determine the proper pluralization form of animagus. It might be important later.

"Salazar locked it up somewhere, but it's only ever killed one student that I'm aware of. One death in a thousand years... statistically, that's nothing. As for the animagus rule, I've long ago given up trying to make sense of Dumbledore's actions. I'm reasonably certain that the man is insane."

"Ok, so I can bring my dog if it's my familiar? How can I tell?"

"There are several indications, in a strong familiar bond, the witch or wizard can understand what the animal is feeling. Either as an emotional rapport, or in extreme cases, as actual speech."

"Oh, no problem there. Ripper talks all the time. It's hard to get him to keep quiet sometimes."

Interesting, the boy could talk to snakes and possibly dogs as well. A form of Beast Speech or polygot maybe?

"Have you ever tried talking to other dogs or other creatures?"

"Just snakes, but they're not as interesting as Ripper."

Ah, excellent, an opportunity to warn the child about his parsel abilities without appearing as though she was violating his privacy.

"Harry, I must warn you, keep your abilities secret for now, most people tend to associate Parseltongue, that's the languages snakes speak, with Evil wizards."

"Oh. I kinda knew that already, what with my Father being who He was and all, but what's wrong with being Evil?"

Professor Sprout's heart warmed with pride. He was truly a Hufflepuff after her own heart!

"Nothing at all, my dear, just remember you're a Puff. And we protect our own. Protect us and we will protect you. I'm sure you've noticed in your history books that most evil wizards tend to get killed after revealing their master plan to the hero? Well, we Puffs have spent centuries cultivating an image of trust and respect. You'll never find a Puff Dark Lord that was stupid enough to announce to the world that they were evil. The trick is to quietly take over the world when no-one's paying attention, and kill the hero in his sleep. That way, by the time anyone's noticed, it's far too late to do anything about it."

Harry couldn't help but smile. When the Wrinkly-Cat-Lady had said that your new house would be like your family, she was so very right!

"Now, normally I wouldn't give these to you until forth year, but I think I can make an exception in your case. Your homework for the summer is to read The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx, and The April Thesis by Vladimir Lenin. I won't ask you to write about them just yet, but I want you to think about the Worker's Revolution and what they did wrong. That way, when it's your turn to join the Blood Guard of the Proletariat, you won't make the same mistakes our forefathers did."

"I've already read the Communist Manifesto, Auntie Petunia thought it would be educational. I'm supposed to memorize The Art of War and The Prince this summer."

"Really? Excellent! I normally don't make our Puffs Memorize Machiavelli until 4th year!" Professor Sprout made a mental note to send Mrs. Dursely a care package. It was the least she could do for raising such a sweet Hufflepuff.

~oOo~


	8. Chapter 8

**~oOo~ **

**Interlude : Summer Holidays**

**~oOo~**

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!"

Xenophilius looked up from his latest project, creating a "Find-Anythinge-Device" to help find his old Find-Anythinge-Device which had been misplaced.

"What is it Dew Drop?"

"It's the Rotfangs again! They want to renew their contract."

After the Quibbler revealed their existence to the world a few years ago, the Rotfang Conspiracy had met in secret, as they always did, to determine the best way to deal with their security. It was quickly determined that Lovegood had somehow found a way around their secrecy charms.

Reasoning that the only man alive that could possibly know the means to defeat Lovegood's anti-secrecy charms was Xenophilius Lovegood, the Rotfangs had approached Xenophilius and had worked out a rental agreement. After all, they reasoned, the man must be a security expert of some sort, so his secrecy charms must be amazingly effective.

The decision to meet in Xenophilius' basement went something like this:

"Xenophilius has broken through our secrecy charms."

"Who do we know of that could stop him from doing so in the future?"

"Uhh... Xenophilius?"

"That's brilliant. See about renting a conference room from him."

"But..."

"Hop to it man, were wasting precious time out in the open like this."

As such, the Rotfangs now met every other Thursday night in the only place in England safe from Lovegood's eavesdropping. The "secret" subbasement of Quibbler publishing incorporated was, in theory, warded with secrecy charms that not even Xenophilius himself could break.

~oOo~

Dobby looked at Harry.

Harry looked at Dobby.

Dobby looked at Ripper.

Ripper looked at Dobby.

"Can I eat him?"

"Yous is having a Hell hound, Harry Potter sir?"

Harry looked at Dobby. Some questions weren't worth answering. He didn't know what this thing was, but he already ruled out Yoda. Which was kinda disappointing, because he wouldn't mind becoming a Jedi. He made a note to look up a charm to create force lightning later. And possibly a lightsaber. There had to be a charm for that somewhere.

"What are you?"

"I is being a house elf. I must be warnings yous not to be returning to Hogwarts."

"Ripper, eat him."

"Eeeep!" The weird creature snapped his fingers and suddenly vanished.

~oOo~

Hermione Granger was used to being dragged all over the world. She had been dragged to museums all over the continent, old castles and ruins on old islands, as her parents tried to fill her head with education and culture.

So being dragged to this very odd house in the middle of the night was not too terribly surprising. What was slightly disconcerting was meeting this very odd girl and her very odd father.

"Are you going to Hogwarts next year Luna?"

"Yes. Assuming the Prince of Hell hasn't destroyed it yet."

"Ummm, no. I'm sure people would have noticed something like that."

"In that case, I should be. I already have my books and everything. It must be exciting for you. Being the daughter of two dentists."

"I... uh... what?"

"I mean all the adventures you must have. Surely your parents take you along on their tooth related adventures."

While she was kind of happy that she made an almost friend, she wasn't quite sure how to respond to some of the things Luna said.

~oOo~

"There comes a knocking from the door!" spake the Door Keeper, Holder of Keys and Payer of Rent of the Ancient and Noble house of Rotfang.

For a given value of ancient. Assuming 20 years or so was ancient. In terms of dental hygiene, fillings dating back 20 years were positively archaic, whereas modern day dentistry had incorporated synthetic polymers and lasers and weird machines that went "ping" when you poked them. As such the Rotfangs felt no guilt at all when calling themselves Ancient and Noble. After all, time was relative, and as such, comparatively speaking, they were so far advanced from their ancient brethren, who used pliers and vodka to sooth toothaches, that they may as well have been comparing themselves to monkeys armed with bananas and sticks to modern doctors armed with dental floss and Oral-b toothbrushes.

The world of modern dentistry is a wild and scary place, not meant for mortal man to comprehend. And the men and women who take up arms to protect mere mortals from the slings and arrows of painful cavities are to be respected. We know this to be true, as it is written in the charter of the Rotfang Articles of Dentistry and Oral Hygiene as decreed by the three noble Dentists of Yore.

Moving on.

Passwords were spoken and secret handshakes given and received. Acolytes mingled at the sugar free snack bar and dentist professionals compared and complimented each others floss collections.

Finally, when all members were present and accounted for, with the exception of Hew Mathews who had an emergency root canal to perform, The Honorable First Chair stood and called together the 578th convocation of the Rotfang General Dentist Council.

"Brothers and sisters, we are gathered here today to welcome two new members into our Order. Hygienist Wordsworth, will you do the honors?"

Wordsworth looked a bit put out. He hadn't spent all that time in school to become a hygienist. He was a dental technician and proud of it. He'd have words with the First Chair after the meeting to this effect.

"Brothers and Sisters, I humbly present to you two new supplicants to our Order. The honorable Doctor Emma Granger, and the honorable Doctor Dan Granger."

The meeting lasted well into the night.

~oOo~

Dudley was on the verge of death. He knew he could expect no mercy from his cousin. Especially not with Ripper encouraging his blood lust.

"Smite him! Smite him! Smite him! SMITE HIM with the WRATH and with ZE FURY! He dared challenge your might, he must be cast down and forced to drink from the cup of unholy DESPAIR that flows through your blackened heart!"

"Settle down. I'm smiting him, ok, just give me a second here."

Rippers' eyes ignited with hellfire and the stench of brimstone filled the air as he consulted the piece of paper between his paws. "Forward, down, forward, high punch."

All three watched gleefully as Sub-Zero tore off Kano's head and held it to the screen. Fatality.

"That was so cool. Another round, Dudley?"

"Sure, but this time I'm picking Scorpion. Kano sucks."

Ripper looked at his master's cousin. "I told you this, did I not. Choseth not the one in white for he surely must be a pansy. I distinctly remember saying this."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now hush, I gotta concentrate."

~oOo~

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! I found your old Find-Anythinge-Device! It was behind the couch!"

~oOo~

AN:\ The Rotfangs are a secret conspiracy working to bring down the Ministry of Magic from within using a combination of Dark Magic and gum disease.

Not sure I got the feel of the group right, I may come back and work on it later.


	9. Chapter 9

**~oOo~ **

**Chapter 9: Summer Vacation Continued**

**Vernon's Job: "Gunning's Drills" - Nudge, Nudge, Wink, Wink. Also, the Perils of Banking**

**~oOo~ **

Location: Construction Area Near Surrey.

Time: 2 AM

The best thing about having a hell hound, Vernon decided, was that it understood the importance of digging.

With Ripper helping him dig the ditches, he'd cut his work week from four hours a week to just two.

Come morning, the construction crew would return and fill in the foundation of the lot with cement, conveniently covering up the shallow grave that Ripper was gleefully digging.

o/`o/` "Hi ho, Hi ho. It's off to work we go, I'd pay a quid to see your tits. Hi ho, Hi ho. o/`o/`

o/` "Hi ho, Stay in that sack, or I'll give you such a whack, Hi Ho!" o/`

A muffled voice came from the duffel bag. "Please, just let me go and I promise I won't tell anyone about this. Please please, oh god please just let me go."

The tape must have fallen off her mouth.

Vernon took his shovel and whacked the area of the bag where he assumed her head was until the sounds stopped. Problem solved.

Some people called them hookers, others called them whores. Some people called them vice-girls.

Vernon preferred to call them ATM machines.

He was momentarily blinded by a bright light.

"Security! This is a restricted area, I'm going to have to ask you to leave... Oh my God, what- PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD AND GET DOWN ON THE GROUND NOW!"

This was Edwin's big break. A lowly security guard catching a murderer. If this didn't get him a promotion nothing will.

Ripper looked up. "Oh good. A snack has just arrived. I was getting hungry."

"What the hell, that dog just talked!"

As Ripper leapt at the security guard, Vernon put one end of the shovel and leaned against the handle. "I know! I keep telling people that, but no-one believes me!"

Moments later, when Ripper had finished with his snack, the man and his dog went back to work.

~oOo~

"Got a special treat for you this year, Little Perdition. Me and Ripper talked it over with the Deacon, and for your birthday this year, you'll get to be the one to sacrifice the goat for Midnight Mass. Me and Ripper even put in a few hours overtime at work this week so we could afford a decent goat to slaughter."

"You're the best, Uncle Vernon. You too Ripper!"

~oOo~

Year one: Test Results

Transfiguration – E

Herbology – O

Care of Magical Creatures – A

Potions – Die in a Fire you stupid Potter.

Wizardry Ethics – TTT (Failed – Lowest grade ever on record.)

Charms – E

History of Magic – A

~oOo~

Harry Potter stared at the back of the goblin's head. A quick trip to Diagon Ally seemed good in theory, but in reality first you had to go through that stupid restaurant, then you had to wait precious seconds while the stupid door opened, then you had to wait on stupid goblins, then you had to take a stupid roller coaster ride to go to the WRONG vault to get some stupid wizarding money...

And they didn't even give him the right vault! He should have vault 666 not vault 687! He had asked about swapping, but apparently he had to wait till the vault owner of 666 died before he could claim it. And the stupid goblins wouldn't even tell him who currently owned it, so he couldn't go find the owner of HIS vault and liberate it.

Stupid goblins.

Stupid roller coaster.

Stupid underground dragons.

Stupid hell hound sticking his head out the cart.

"Can't this thing go any faster?"

"No."

Stupid goblins.

Push!

The cart bounced up and down merrily as it ran over the stupid goblin.

Upon reflection, Harry decided the cart ride was kind of fun actually. More so now that he was the one pulling the lever.

Except the lever didn't seem to actually do anything.

Stupid goblin lever.

Stupid goblin cart.

The cart coasted to a stop in front of Harry's vault.

Both Harry and Ripper stared at the vault door for a moment.

"Do you know how to open this thing?"

"Only Goblins can unlock it. We had a Goblin, but SOMEONE seems to have misplaced it."

…

"Bugger"

Stupid goblins.

Well, one good thing came of this atleast. Now he could walk to vault 666, pry off the numbers and swap them with the numbers on his vault.

~oOo~

Ragnok stared at the little human in front of him. "Mr. Potter. Goblins do not simply 'fall' out of mining carts."

"Well, maybe he's not much of a goblin then."

He had to admit to himself, that the child had a point. In his day, anyone foolish enough to turn their back to a hell hound got what he deserved. But on the other hand, it wouldn't do to have wizards pushing goblins out of carts.

"Mr. Potter, the surveillance footage clearly shows you pushing Griphook out of the cart. Your voice can clearly be heard laughing at him."

"Oh... Well, is it against the rules or something? I don't remember reading anything about NOT pushing goblins out of carts in your bank brochure."

Technically this was true. Until now the bank had never thought to include the "Do not push your goblin out of the cart" policy. Nor had thought to include the "Do not steal someone else's vault numbers" policy.

His father never had problems like this.

"Look kid, it's simple. You get in the cart, you go to your vault and either put stuff in or take stuff out. Then you get back in the cart and then leave. It's not that complicated."

Stupid humans.

~oOo~


End file.
